


perennials

by moriphyte



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 14:26:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11015247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moriphyte/pseuds/moriphyte
Summary: “I paint flowers so they will not die”—Frida KahloIf only we were all perennial flowers





	perennials

**Author's Note:**

> Just processing trauma through Dave Strider but what else is new. These kids have been through so much.

You always liked flowers  
Among all the dead things in your life they were one thing that was living. Unfortunately you were never very good at keeping things alive, as is apparent by your collection of preserved dead things. So when the flowers Jade gave you from her garden died you pressed them in a book and labeled them with their scientific names. Jade was the one that told you what they were, she seems to have them all memorized.  
Then she told you about perennials  
They're stronger than other flowers, they keep living despite changes.  
You know a girl who is a lot like a perennial flower, at least that's what you think  
The flower's name is Rose, she is purple, a pale lilac that matches her eyes, and she is your twin sister  
You think it's funny that her name is Rose and yet all you can think of when you look at her is lilacs growing in a dead land, bright and living against the dark, burnt dirt around her  
She likes your book of pressed flowers, she says that it's lovely in a dark way, how all things seem to die around you but you keep them anyway, make them live again in their own way through your art  
That's what it is, she says, art, pressed flowers and pained animal bones, taxidermied crows and dried bird feet kept in a jar  
You don't think much of it, it's just your dead things, your own perennials  
It gives you something to do in the new world, all this collecting and preserving of dead things  
You help Jade with her garden during warm summer afternoons and she gives you daisies to put in your bedroom window  
John likes them, Karkat says they're depressing  
When they die, as they will, you will press them in your book of petals  
You have something for every person, every flower in your life, a blue feather for John, dried lilacs for Rose, your sad attempt at keeping alive a potted plant for Jade, a crow you found on the side of the road for Karkat, a cat skull for Roxy, a bird skeleton that's missing it's head for Dirk, a dried red rose for Terezi, a bag of dried lavender for Kanaya, edible petals from the borage flower for Jane, an unidentified skull for Jake, pressed wildflowers for Calliope, and wilting forget me nots for Vriska  
You never give them these things, one day you will, but for now you keep them with you, things to remind you of the people you love and who love you  
All of them are perennials, just like Rose, but not all of them can look the way the flowers in Jade's garden do in the spring  
Some of them are not as strong as others, their stems break, their petals fall, they wilt, they wither, but they always come back, always  
Most of you are damaged, some more than others, but you live, because sometimes thats all you can do  
You see them at their most broken and you see them as they bloom  
And they see you too  
You don't get much sleep, but in the small hours that you do you sometimes wake to screaming  
Rose hears the voices of the dark gods, John sees his dad dead on the ground, Jade hears the voice of an ancient queen, Terezi 'sees' the pain in all the lives she lived, Karkat sees all the ones who didn't make it to the new world, Dirk feels his neck sever  
You're all broken, you all have scars, but you continue despite them  
You live, you love each other, and slowly but surely, you heal


End file.
